


Forgotten

by c_morrigan



Category: Nevermoor Series - Jessica Townsend
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-16 05:02:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 520
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29201784
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c_morrigan/pseuds/c_morrigan
Summary: So this is a sort of a work in progress, but I wanted to see what people thought about this bit. Basically, I'm writing about the different people Cadence has known and the possibility that some of the people she knows now may have met her before. I’m considering writing a couple (I have 3 or 4 in mind) more, but would anybody actually enjoy that?
Kudos: 4





	Forgotten

The boy she had met when she was five. She hadn't fully understood her gift. Looking back, Cadence realised she had probably used her knack on him, without even realising it. 

He had been using her gran's oven. That was unusual in itself. He was the same age as Cadence, and Cadence wasn’t even supposed to be in the kitchen. Why was he allowed to use the oven? There was also the matter of who was he? That concerned her somewhat less. Gran always had visitors over, and plenty of them brought their kids with them.

"Who are you? Are you going to help me to bake? Auntie Hester said that I wasn’t to bother anybody," the boy said doubtfully.

"It's okay. This is my gran's house. Would you let me help? I like food."

"Alright," replied the boy, the worry dissolving from his face. "Will you help me? I want to make my cookie recipe perfect. It's for a competition, you know."

Cadence nodded. "That sounds fun. What do you need me to do?"

He pursed his lips. "Will you hold the bowl still while I mix it?"

Cadence agreed although she thought he should be able to hold a bowl herself.

He chattered away to her as he worked, telling her all about himself, never stopping to ask Cadence about herself.

The boy's name was Francis. He was from a big family, who had been a part of Wunsoc for generations. His Auntie Hester was determined that Francis should follow in his family's footsteps when he was eleven. His knack was baking, although Auntie Hester insisted he called himself a gastronomist. He confided in Cadence that he thought the name was silly but didn’t dare say that to his aunt.

Francis went everywhere with his aunt, as she intended on being his patron, which, according to her, meant that they had to have a special relationship. Francis wanted to please her very badly, but also thought that she put too much pressure on him.

"Why don’t you just tell her all of this?"

Francis shuddered. "I couldn’t upset her like that. Auntie Francis gets distraught when I tell her things like that. When I was three, I told her I didn’t want to be in Wunsoc, and she didn’t speak to me for a week. Who are you again?"

Cadence huffed. "I'm Cadence. I've been helping you for half an hour and you still haven't let me eat anything. Instead you're telling me your life story."

Francis nodded and carried on with his life story. Cadence didn’t mind that much. Usually, people didn’t talk to her at all. And Francis was so busy talking, he didn’t notice when she licked some of the chocolate icing off her finger. 

After an hour, they had made two hundred cookies, and Gran came into the kitchen with Auntie Hester. Cadence didn’t like Hester. She was a severe-looking woman, and Cadence wasn’t surprised that she stressed Francis out so much.

"Ah, Francis, I see you've met my little Cadence."

"Who?" Francis asked in confusion.

Cadence didn’t see him for another six years.


End file.
